On Saturday I had a relatively hard time unglueing my butt from the coach. I was tired and my knee still hurt, but finally just before dusk I decided that a nice 3-mile run would do me well. Assuming I'd be gone for 25 or so minutes, I didn't bother getting out my red flashing anklet or my headlamp. I felt fine, laced up my shoes, strapped on my Garmin and left.
At about 1/2 mile into my run, I felt tired. I assumed this was from spending most of the day relaxing. By 1 mile, I felt a little better and the pain in my knee disappeared, I ran in the street for the next half mile due to snow-covered sidewalks, and reached my turn-around point. At about 1.6 miles into the run, my legs were uneasy. I knew what it was: my blood sugar was low, and dropping. I only get the "shaky legs" symptom when I am really, really low (like 30s). I immediately regretted my decision to not bring any form of glucose/food with me.
Low, I sat down on the side walk to "think." If i am low, my thinking is of very low-quality. Normal things do not typically make sense. After a few minutes, I thought the best option would be continue to run home. Totally not logical, right? But that made perfect sense to my low-blood-sugar self. At 2 miles into the run, my legs became unsteady again. Once again, I sat down on the sidewalk. At this time, a car drove by and asked me what number was on the house I was near. After saying it, I started to cry. When I get low, I also cry at almost anything.
I felt like a scared, lost child and couldn't figure out what to do. Pretty soon after, a car pulled into the driveway that I was sitting near. Out of the car step 2 old guys, both with white hair.
"Are you okay?" they ask.
"Do you have any juice that I can have?"
"Do you want to come in? My wife is inside. You can get out of the cold that way." (It was in the teens)
"I am fine outside. I just need some juice. I have a low blood sugar."
Both men go inside, and one brings me a full glass of orange juice. I hate orange juice, but was so thankful that this stranger was being so incredibly kind to me. A couple out on a walk then came up to me and the kind old man. They asked if I was fine, I filled them in on what was happening in as few words as possible, to which they replied that they had no sugar. But if I needed a ride home their house was close by. The old man told me he would be right back.
I continued to sit on the sidewalk, waiting for my orange juice to kick in. The old man then came back for a blanket for me because "you'll freeze if you are out here a minute more." I politely declined the blanket and he went on to tell me about low blood sugars - the details which are fuzzy now. I think someone he knew was diabetic, or he could have been a type 2. Anyway, a few minutes later i was feeling decent enough to run one mile home.
I thanked the kind old man and ran home. When I tested I was 42 (20 minutes after orange juice).
Things could have turned out far different for me today if it weren't for some kind people. Looking back, it was stupid that I didn't test my blood sugar beforehand and bring something with me. Although carrying things is inconvenient, it is necessary. I am truly lucky that things turned out the way they did and not worse.
Thank you, kind stranger.